Secondary Existence
by mistycrow
Summary: He looks at the mirror. "My name is Sasaki Haise." He says. He believes this.


**Secondary Existence**

He looks at the mirror.

"My name is Sasaki Haise." He says.

He believes this.

He woke up one day and he saw strange faces. They looked at him with concern and fear; they wore masks; they wore white clothes; they had _blood; they smelled good; they made him hungry;_ and they told him his name – Sasaki Haise.

He had white hair and strange eyes. He felt hungry, but they didn't give him food. He felt empty, but they didn't tell him why.

They told him his name was Sasaki Haise and left him with no memories for a while.

"I am working for the Commission of Counter Ghoul in Japan. I am one of the First Class investigators."

They told him what he was – a half-human, half-ghoul hybrid. He wasn't like them, but they were okay with this. They were humans, his _prey, food, things that made his mouth water and stomach growl,_ and they were letting him stay. They treated his wounds, _horrible wounds that scarred his body and made him want to scream but he didn't_ and they gave him _horrible, inedible, rotten_ food. He was sure they were good people.

"My job is to work with fellow investigators and catch Ghouls who commit crimes in the streets of Tokyo. I will work with undoubtable loyalty with my team and superiors."

He was empty. There weren't any memories. He was a new-born baby, aged 19.

"I will do whatever I can to create an investigator who can surpass Arima Kishou."

 _Arima. Kishou. Arima. Ma. Ma. Ma. Mamama…_ _MA._

He feels a weird pain at the back of his eyes. He reaches for his glasses and puts them on. He looks at himself in the mirror once again, taking in his appearance. His hair is no longer made up of two colours; the long white strands of hair grew and black roots took over their place. He doesn't look like his hair is dyed anymore.

"I am a half-ghoul ghoul investigator."

Sometimes he wants to dye his white hair into pitch black like the ones on top of his head. The white strands make his eyes burn and ear itch. He doesn't like them. But he never manages to create time some time for it.

He has plenty of spare time though.

"I am a half-ghoul ghoul investigator." He repeats. He realizes that he's repeating his sentences and blinks. He thinks, briefly, that there is something wrong in that sentence.

A voice whispers in his ear; his itching ear; it says some other person, in some other time, with different memories and feelings and tastes, would state a completely different fact in front of mirrors like this. He would say –

"I am Sasaki Haise." He doesn't let the train of thought reach its destination. The end is scary and he doesn't want to see it. He is scared of losing his mind.

He is scared of losing himself.

He didn't always use glasses and somehow, he knows this.

Sometimes, little voices in his mind tell him about distant memories. When he's reading, they add little comments on familiar sentences. When he's walking on the streets of Tokyo, a distant feeling of déjà vu, but stronger, hits him and he says things he doesn't realize saying. Sometimes, some faces make him feel extremely lonely or scared, and sometimes he feels a desperate need to reach out to them. He needs to catch them before it's too late.

It's always too late.

He closes his eyes for a second.

When he reopens them, he is greeted by the cold, deadly look of a red iris. The sclera goes black and the veins appear to be more defined.

The first time he looked at himself in the mirror with his eyes mismatched, he didn't think anything was wrong with them. It looked quite normal to him; like they were supposed to be this way; and it didn't scare him.

It still doesn't scare him. It's making his stomach turn and heart clench.

He is different. He isn't like those kids in the living room. He doesn't eat the same food as them, nor has the same feelings. He doesn't think parenthood is important, but he does think a life without partners would be a life unworthy of living.

He is a half-ghoul – but he doesn't know how it was to be a human.

"I am a half-ghoul."

He never accepted to fact that he was a human once. Before the experiment done on him, before he was turned into a _monster by a crazy, psychopathic criminal who called himself a doctor…_ He was a human. He had a human life. He ate the things he cooked for his subordinates. He had parents, he had a family.

He never accepted this. He never had a family. The closest thing he had as a family was the forceful bond he created with Arima Kishou and Mado Akira.

He, Sasaki Haise, was never human.

 _It_ , Kaneki Ken, was a human – once.

He knows that one day, he will have to face the big elephant in the room. One day, he is certain of it, he will have to look at this mirror and see Kaneki Ken look back at him. He will have to answer the question he's scared of the most; _WHY?_

 _Why did you stop being a human? Why did you stop being a ghoul? Why do you let them use you as a dog? Why do you kill your (potentially) best friends? Why did you never search for me? Why did you lock me up? Why did I never get to see the light, unless it was a fight and you were losing? Why did you try to erase me? Why was I never there?_

 _WHY ARE YOU USING MY BODY?_

Sasaki Haise was never a human. Sasaki Haise was never a ghoul.

Sasaki Haise was CCG's creation.

"I am CCG's dog." He says.

He believes this.

There is a bookshelf behind him. It's packed with books and he is scared it will collapse one day under the heavy weight. There are some stray books on the tables and on the floor. Sometimes he can't work without throwing a book on his bed or on the pile next to his desk.

His eyes are getting worse these days. He wonders if he's reading too much.

The small voices in his mind whisper – _it's not the only reason._

Takatsuki Sen is almost always left alone. He likes that author's books. But there is something unbelievable disturbing about the sentences in the books. They aren't just words, or images he's supposed to create in his mind.

They bring memories and sometimes he wondered if Takatsuki Sen was his previous identity. But he knows, it's Kaneki Ken – Kaneki Ken liked Takatsuki Sen so much that his memories entangled with the chapters, sentences, words… To Kaneki Ken, those books meant too much.

Sasaki Haise thinks those books are a fun read – that's all he thinks about them.

He isn't an albino. He's sure of it, somehow. He didn't feel the need to ask the doctor (or anyone else) about his hair. He just accepted the fact that his hair was white from the very beginning and didn't question it. After all, Arima Kishou's hair was also white and he wasn't an albino also.

But his hair was growing pitch black.

He did some research the previous day. He stumbled upon a disease when he was searching through articles on Google, without knowing what he was looking for exactly. It was called the Mary-Antoinette Syndrome.

" _Mary-Antoinette Syndrome is a sudden whitening of hair caused by extreme stress or emotional trauma and is named after the last Queen of France, whose hair turned white during the imprisonment prior to her execution."_

He wonders what made Kaneki Ken's hair turn white.

He cracks his fingers.

"I am Sasaki Haise." He says.

Somehow, today feels different. Today, his reflection in the mirror isn't stable. He wonders if it's the lack of coffee or the grumbling of his stomach, or the horrible smell of the dinner he made for his subordinates that swallowed the clean air of his room.

He looks at his eyes, mismatched, for 10 whole minutes and his face changes.

He is younger, sadder and…

He is stronger.

Sasaki Haise sees a different face in the mirror and he is scared. He is being swallowed inside the reflection and the fear of losing his touch with reality overcomes his feelings.

But he's curious. He wants to know the answers to his many questions – ones he never wanted to ask in the first place. His mind is clouded and he knows if he doesn't get the answers he needs, he will forever be forced to live under the shadow of a white haired kid.

It's not a white haired kid that looks back at him in the mirror. It's a boy with a white eyepatch and decent clothes. He looks at him with pity, but he sees it – he sees the unbelievably strong wave of resentment; directed at him.

This person is innocent and pure – and he is the unwanted visitor of this body.

This person's body…

Sasaki Haise decides to take a step forward.

 _BLOOD IS COMING OUT._

 _WORDS. WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDSWORDSWORDS THEY AREN'T COMING OUT. IT'S GOING THROUGH HIS HEAD._

 _HIS EYES. HIS EYES. MOTHER. MOTHER. MOTHER. HE'S SO FUCKED UP._

" _I'M SO FUCKED UP!"_

 _WORDS. POEMS. MEMORIES. PAIN. PAIN IS SO MUCH. HE IS MELTING._

" _I'M MELTING!"_

 _DEATH GOD. HE IS DYING. THERE IS NO ONE AROUND. HE IS DYING HE IS IN SO MUCH PAIN._ WHY ISN'T ANYONE SAVING HIM? WHY ISNT THAT PERSON HELPING HIM? _HE CAN'T HE'S THE ENEMY._

" _MOTHER. MOTHER. MA. MA. MAMAMA."_

Arima.

" _IT HUUUUUUUUUUUUURTS!"_

 _WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS HE? I DIDN'T HURT HIM. I DIDN'T KILL HIM. I DIDN'T EAT –_

Hide.

Hide.

HIDE.

Sasaki Haise takes a step forward. The eyepatch falls down.

MY FINGERS

ON THE TABLE

CENTIPEDE

IN MY EAR

WHAT

IS

1000

MINUS

7

?

Sasaki Haise takes another step forward. The emotions and small bits of memories are clouding his mind.

The hair turns white.

"Rize-san…"

"Rize-san…"

 _Rize-san is dead. I ate Rize-san._

" _I am a ghoul."_

"Rize-san is no more."

A single red tear falls down the cheek of Kaneki Ken's body. The eye turns black in Sasaki Haise's reflection.

In a second, it feels like something snaps and Sasaki Haise was sure –

\- that Sasaki Haise was no more.

He takes his glasses off. He puts them neatly on the night table next to his tidy bed. He takes three steps backwards and stands on the first spot he started this journey.

It was very fruitful, he thinks. He learned a lot. He knows a lot of things now.

"I am Sasaki Haise." He says.

He believes this.

Takatsuki Sen was beautiful. All of the books were masterpieces and he loved all of them. The stories were amazing. The coffee he drank when he was reading those books had a priceless taste. He could still recall the amazing smell of cakes, candies and hamburgers.

"I am Kaneki Ken." He says.

He believes this.

He wants to get out of this room and clean the mess his subordinates surely created and left for him to deal with. He wants to get back to work and catch the criminals in the streets of Tokyo. He wants to find them and make sure they received the due penalties.

He closes his eyes for a second, feels the blade through his eyes and the legs of the centipede in his ear, smells the horrible smell of human food in his room and recalls the feel of his Quinque, and looks at the mirror for a last time.

He turns his back to the mirror.


End file.
